**1:19 a.m. – Evergreen outskirts**
Gunfire cracked again.
Arthur ducked behind the concrete barrier, blood dripping from his forearm. “Two shooters. Sniper on the ridge. One on the move."
Sophie reloaded smoothly. “You still allergic to teamwork?"
“Only when it involves getting shot."
She peeked out, eyes sharp. “That's a Vargas signature—red fox on the bike. He's not just watching anymore. He's hunting."
Arthur grimaced. “And we gave him the scent."
Another round whistled past.
Without warning, Sophie bolted out from cover, pivoting to the left. Arthur cursed and followed, laying down cover fire.
Together, they moved like gears in a machine—six years apart hadn't dulled their rhythm.
Arthur took out the mobile gunman with a clean shot to the leg. Sophie tackled him mid-collapse
